


Purgatorio Flammae

by TheSeraphmin



Series: Do dreamer's dream of past mistakes? [2]
Category: Bloodborne (Video Game)
Genre: Minor Angst, disjointed writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:29:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26315710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSeraphmin/pseuds/TheSeraphmin
Summary: "It won't be long..."The First Vicar, The First Cleric Beast. Fate can be cruel. Ironic, even.Fire for fire, flames for flames.
Series: Do dreamer's dream of past mistakes? [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1867753
Comments: 3
Kudos: 8





	Purgatorio Flammae

Flickers, sputtering...

Am I alive? No. Yes. Maybe? Dreaming? In a dream? It’s hazy. Foggy. Smoky.

Where was I? I do not know. I do not care. I am here now, and I feel it. The numbness fades. Maybe I am alive. Maybe I am myself?

Warmth. Ludwig? A gentle touch. My palm, something. It is gone now. No matter. The warmth fades, and I grow tired. Stupor takes hold. It all fades out...

* * *

Again I stir. The warmth, it returns. Something else. It calls to me. I want it. It is precious. Why? What is precious?

Ludwig. Is that you? Who are you? Who is Ludwig? 

Remember. Remember what? My dear precious Ludwig, of course. 

Where are you? The lights, I see them now. They do not speak to me. They scream at me. Horrible things. Condemner. Murderer. Monster. Beast.

Flames. Burning, the incandescent night sky. Oh the blaze. Burn out the scourge. A pyre for the damned. Beyond help, nothing the church could do. My church? Nothing I could do. Beyond salvation. Tainted.

Tainted blood. Ashen blood. Blood, oh sweet blood. Where are you? I am your master. I was? Who was? A trickle. Refreshing? Tingling. Spreading. Pain? FIRE!

THE FLAMES COME FOR ME TOO. NOT MY FIRE. NOT MY TORCH. NOT MY OIL. THE CHURCHES. THE HUNTERS. THE STENCH. SINGED FUR. CHARRED FLESH. SICKENING!

LUDWIG. WHERE ARE YOU. WHERE HAVE YOU GONE? LUDWIG!

I FEEL IT. WHAT? FOCUS!

At the edge of it’s senses. At the edge of who’s? Who is it? Who am I? What am I?

Someone, something?

Myself? Not me, not anymore. 

I feel it. The not me. It is warm. I want it. I need it. I will take it.

Move. Long limbs. Spindly. Is this me? I reach out. I roar. Hand it over. Why do you not?

Must kill. Must take it back. TAKE BACK WHAT IS MINE!

* * *

THE PAIN. IT BURNS. THE SCRATCHING. THE PELTING. INSECT. IT WILL BURN. I WILL MAKE IT BURN. I WILL TAKE IT BACK!

* * *

The flames, are we fading? It grows cold.

Who? A hunter? Gehrman?

Moonlight. My old friend. It is you.

Here to keep your promise.

It won’t be long...

Please. End this.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the short story In The Minds of Madness from Riot Games. Writing from the perspective of a half sentient monster is interesting imo, the short, sporadic, almost nonsensical style was a fun challenge! This was another piece that was floating around in my head for a while, and I finally caught it! I've still got Gehrman's dream to finish, and maybe another few left, hopefully I don't put them off for another month this time...


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